


The Glint of Moonlight on Steel

by MidnightMuse234



Category: Bleach
Genre: Demon AU, Fighting pit, M/M, Zanpakuto are demons in this fic, it's gonna be great
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2020-07-11 22:11:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19935322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightMuse234/pseuds/MidnightMuse234
Summary: Ichigo wakes up in what looks like a cell. He has no time to breathe before he's thrown into a fight and told that he must participate in battles or else his sisters will be killed. The longer Ichigo spends in this fighting ring, the more he can feel his humanity slipping away, and the louder the voice in his mind grows.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Should I be publishing yet another story? Probs not. Am I gonna do it anyway? Hells yeah, because I really love this concept and I want to share it with you all!
> 
> Please comment what you think! :)

The walls in the hallway were white, sterile, as though no dirt was ever allowed to touch the stucco walls. The hallway had a slight decline and every step seemed no closer to the end. After a painfully silent 20 minutes of walking, there was a pentagon-shaped room.

Two women dragged an unconscious man down the hallway, blood from a small wound on his forehead staining the white tile floor. The women were easily half the orange-haired man’s size, but were dragging him with considerable ease. One woman had short, blonde hair, while the other had long black hair tied in two pony tails.

When they reached the bottom of the hallway, the two women turned towards the first set of doors on the right where they were stopped.

“The two of you need to learn to be more careful,” a man with an empty stare and black hair spoke. “If you had hit him over the head any harder, he’d have internal bleeding and be completely useless to us.”

Melony, the woman with short blonde hair, replied, “Sorry, Ulquiorra-sama…”

“Tch.” Loly rolled her eyes. “We were ordered to take him out. If you don’t like the way we did it, should’a given us better orders.”

Melony flinched when Ulquiorra turned a sharp green glare at her partner. “For your sake, Loly Aivirrne, don’t talk back to your superiors.” His voice held no emotion, no indication of anger, and yet it still shook Melony to the bone. “You’re lucky Aizen is waiting for you, or I’d make an example of you. Take the boy to the armory.”

Loly scowled and Melony stepped between her and Ulquiorra. “Yes sir, right away!”

Ulquiorra turned towards another hallway and vanished down it.

Loly glared at Melony, “Why do you put up with their crap?”

Melony frowned and rubbed her arm. “The same reason you don’t want to - because I don’t want to be here. It’ll be easier if we just give in and maybe one day they’ll let us go.”

“Give up,” Loly spat. “You know we’re never leaving this place unless it’s in a body bag.”

Melony sighed and started tugging on the man’s foot again. “C’mon, Loly, don’t talk like that. Let’s just complete our task and be thankful that we’re getting a break from competing in the arena.”

Loly frowned and didn’t say a word more. She helped Melony drag the unconscious human down the hallway. At the end of it all, Loly’s retorts were just empty words. She really did wish that she could go home, but there was no way after 5 years of serving in this hell that they were just going to let her and Melony walk out now. At least, she had been taken from her home along with her friend.

As long as Loly had Melony, she would never be truly alone.

Keeping one arm each on the human, Loly and Melony each used their other arm to reach out and push open the double doors.

“Ah, there he is, finally!” A man with silver hair exclaimed. As he approached the two girls, a frown crossed his lips. “What? That’s not the one we wanted…”   
  
“What are you talking about!?” Loly snapped. “Our orders were brown eyes and-”   
  
“Settle down,” a man with brown hair spoke. He took a moment to brush his hair back out of his face, save for the one insufferable strand that kept hanging across his left eye. He had a small curl to his lips, “He’s the one. Lay him down here.”   
  
Loly and Melony shared a glance before the carried the man they’d kidnapped into the room and placed him down on an observation table.   
  
The brown-haired man gave them a nod and the two women left the room.   
  
“Aizen,” the silver-haired man spoke, “I thought the plan was to bring in Isshin Shiba. So, who is this?”   
  
“His son,” Aizen answered.   
  
“Isshin has a son?”   
  
Aizen nodded. “I’m quite interested in him.”   
  
A third man, one with dark black hair, cleared his throat. “Forgive me for questioning you, my lord, but why would we want a half-breed when his father is-?”   
  
“Trust me, Tousen, his son is the one I want.”

Tousen nodded and went silent.

The silver-haired man tilted his head. “I still don’t understand. Care to explain the change in plans?”

Aizen gave him a smirk. “In time, Gin, you’ll understand.”

Gin sighed and did his best to relax. “Alright, Aizen, I’ll take your word for it. What demon do you want to give him, then?”

Aizen thought for a moment. His fingers moved across the boy’s face, brushing orange hair from a tan forehead. “Zangetsu.”

Gin smiled, bewildered. “You want to give  _ him _ the demon that slayed the moon? But Sosuke, this man… this  _ boy  _ is just a shrimp, he can't handle Zangetsu. He’ll end up broken like all the rest… perhaps even worse.”

Aizen leaned away from the unconscious boy. “This one’s different.”

“How?” Gin pressed. “What makes you think this boy will turn out any different at all?”

“Do it, Gin.”

Gin stilled, his protests silenced. “Alright,  _ you’re _ the boss.” He crossed the room. On the opposite side of the entrance, there was another door. This one locked. Gin drew the key from within his Shihakusho and a click sounded as he unlocked the door.

The room was more like a walk-in closet. Gin turned on the lights and thousands of swords glinted from their positions on rows upon rows of shelves. Gin moved down the left side of the shelves, heading towards the very back of the room.

He passed several swords - some duller than others. Those were swords with either minor demons residing within them or no demons at all. Zangetsu was located with the other, more valuable demons at the back who had yet to find a worthy host.

Gin passed a few display cases. One holding twin swords, another a weapon that you wore like a glove with a large ‘stinger’… Gin ignored each of them. All of these swords could’ve easily been too powerful for the boy’s body to handle, and yet Aizen wanted the one with the worst track record of them all.

Honestly, what was Lord Aizen thinking? These swords, Zangetsu among them, had not only destroyed the mind’s of people they’d come in contact with, but had also rapidly aged their bodies to the point where they died of old age only minutes later.

Gin sighed as he stopped at the display case in the corner. Inside the case was a thin, white sword. It was the colour of the full moon when it reached its peak in the sky, and it had a thin chain hanging from the end of it’s grip.

Gin slowly opened the case. He carefully slid on gloves and reached in to grab the sword.

Part of the glass case shattered.

“Yeah, yeah…” Gin muttered. “I know you don't like being moved, well too bad. Aizen thinks he's found the right one for you.”

He carried the sword out and brought it to the unconscious boy on the table.

Gin glanced at Aizen and raised a brow. Aizen nodded.

“So, before he dies, mind at least sharing his name?”

“It’s Ichigo Kurosaki.”

Brown eyes fluttered upon hearing his name. “What…?”

Gin grabbed Ichigo’s wrist and forced his hand to grip Zangetsu’s hilt.

The sword flashed red and Ichigo released a horrible scream. He squeezed his eyes shut and arched against the table before he violently slammed back down against it. He shook in agony, writhing on the table.

Gin slowly backed away. “There, see? I told you that Zangetsu would reject this host.”

“Shh,” Aizen hushed. The trio watched in silence as Ichigo's screams quieted. The sword, ever so slowly, started to turn black.

“Impossible…” Gin murmured.

Aizen approached the orange-head, who slowly fell into a deep sleep once again. “There we are, Zangetsu... Do you like your new host?”

The blade was completely black.

“Loly! Melony!” Aizen called. “Have Szayel patch him up and then put Ichigo into cell number 15.”


	2. Chapter 2

**_“Wake up, Ichigo Kurosaki…”_ **

Ichigo gasped as he woke. The last thing he could remember was being surrounded on all sides by men in strange white robes before…

He groaned and rubbed his head.

Before two girls approached him and whacked him over the head with a metal pole.

He felt his head for bumps or dried blood, thin fingers brushing through soft, orange locks. Ichigo sighed, “That’s weird… there should be something…”

Ichigo turned his attention to the room. He was laying on a foam mattress with no springs in it. The only source of light he could find was a small window with three metal bars across it. He didn’t hear anything.

He slowly stood up and headed for the window. He looked out and could see another window on a door across from him. It was then that Ichigo realized the window was part of a metal door. Ichigo quickly found the doorknob and tried desperately to open the door.

 _I’m locked in here like a prisoner,_ he thought. _Duh, this must be some sort of jail. What kind of creeps knock someone out and lock them up?_

He turned to look around the room again. The light from the window gave him just enough to make out shapes - like a bed and a table. He noticed a glint of something reflecting the light and, as he got closer, he realised it was a long metal object leaning against the wall.

“A... sword?” He wondered aloud.

As soon as Ichigo picked it up, a wave of nausea washed over him and he collapsed against the bed.

_Shit…_

“Get up!” He heard someone snap.

Ichigo spun around, sword still in hand, and he scrambled to his feet. His door opened and he could finally see the rest of the room he was in. Not that it would matter since he didn’t have time to completely look around before the man in the doorway seized him by the arm and dragged him out into the hallway.

They made their way down a curved hallway, past several other cells. An opening soon appeared and Ichigo was shoved through it. He landed on his knees and spun around in time to see another metal door slam in his face.

Ichigo sprung to his feet and rushed towards the door. He shouted through the barred window, “What am I doing here!?”

“Have fun,” the man chuckled. “And look out behind you.”

Ichigo whipped around. He was surrounded on all sides by tall metal walls. Above the walls were rows of seats, as far as Ichigo could tell. He was in an arena.

The door across from him opened and a man with red hair and strange tribal-like tattoos walked in. Ichigo gulped. If he was in an arena… was he expected to fight that man?

“So, you’re finally awake.”

It took Ichigo a second to realize that that voice wasn’t coming from the red-haired man. Ichigo looked around at the top of the walls until he spotted a brown-haired man leaning over the top of one of them.

Ichigo narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?”

“You may call me Lord Aizen.”

“Lord of what, kidnapping people?”

Aizen chuckled at that. “Bold choice of words, Ichigo Kurosaki, considering you are completely at my mercy.”

Ichigo slowly raised his sword. “So tell me, Aizen, just where the hell am I!?”

Aizen grinned. “My, you’re certainly energetic. I suppose that makes sense since you’ve been asleep for nearly 32 hours.”

Ichigo felt a spark of horror tighten in his chest. “32… _hours?_ But… what about my sisters? Why did you attack my house and what the hell is this place?”

Aizen smirked. “I’ll answer all of your questions if you can defeat Renji. Don’t worry, he’s been instructed to take it easy on you if he wants to see his beloved Rukia alive and in one piece.”

“You’re sick,” Ichigo spat.

Aizen sighed. “You may begin.”

Ichigo turned his attention to the man across from him, the one with long red hair. Process of elimination, it must have been ‘Renji’.

“Don’t worry, kid, I’m not going to kill you…” Renji spoke. “Well, not unless I have to.”

“It’s not necessary this time,” Aizen confirmed.

 _This time?_ Ichigo thought. _Implying that he’s fought to the death before?_

Renji stepped forth. That’s when Ichigo noticed the long, jagged blade in his hand. It looked much different and far more modified than his own sword.

“I’ll help you learn the basics that you’ll need to survive here. Starting with your sword’s name.”

Ichigo blinked and glanced at his sword. “You… want me to name my sword?”

Renji rolled his eyes. “You really are an amateur. How do you expect to learn about your Zanpakuto if you haven’t even asked it for its name?”

Ichigo scowled and tore his gaze from his sword. “Zanpakuto? Names? I don’t give a crap about any of this nonsense! I want to make sure that my sisters are safe!”

“You won’t know anything unless you defeat Renji,” Aizen added.

Ichigo tensed, his teeth gritting together. He brought his sword out in front of him and braced himself for Renji to make the first move. A mistake. Renji took full advantage of Ichigo’s opening and swung his sword to meet Ichigo’s.

The orange head grunted with the force. He had to jump back and give in to the motion of Renji’s swing a bit lest he actually get cut. In the process, he almost dropped his sword.

Renji shook his head. “You won’t win like that.”

Ichigo glanced at Aizen and then back at Renji.

_Okay, Ichigo, try to remember your martial arts... you can use his weight against him..! But- shit, shit! I've never used a sword before! And there's no way that I can beat him with my bare hands when he has a sword and experience over me._

Renji swung at Ichigo again, this time faster. Ichigo jumped back and grunted as he hit the wall of the arena. He glanced around for an escape, an exit, but the walls were too high to climb and the only two doors out were locked and guarded.

_What do I do? What should I-?_

**_“Fight.”_ **

Ichigo’s eyes went wide.

**_“Stop thinkin’ and FIGHT.”_ **

Ichigo summoned his strength and blocked Renji’s swing. He pushed against the redhead, using the wall as added leverage to really shove Renji back. Ichigo raised his sword and swung at the man now laying on the ground. Ichigo flinched when there was a loud clang and the vibrations shot through his sword and up his arm.

Renji had blocked. “Not bad, kid. That kinda hurt.”

Ichigo glanced around. He couldn't remember moving. “What…?”

Renji shoved Ichigo off him.

Ichigo fell backwards. He felt confused and a little scared, but his sword willed him onward. He climbed back to his feet and struck Renji's sword with his own.

The two continued to fight. Ichigo, despite never using a sword before, found himself suddenly able to see Renji's attacks coming and respond to them perfectly. His mind went numb, and all he could focus on was the battle. He felt Renji's sword cut his arm, but he felt no pain. Likewise, Renji didn't seem to notice when Ichigo nicked his cheek.

Aizen spoke up, “That’s enough for now. I’ve seen what I needed to.”

Ichigo turned to see Aizen walking towards the upper exit. He felt exhaustion creep into his muscles. “Wait! What about my-?”

“Your family is safe as long as you continue to fight in the arena. If you're unwilling to cooperate, I will see to it that your family is executed.” Aizen exited and the door to the upper floor slammed shut, leaving behind a faint echo.

The same thud sounded within Ichigo’s chest.

Renji sighed. “I’m sorry, kid, that’s just how things work around here.”

Ichigo slowly turned to face Renji. He extended a hand to him. “It’s not your fault. He’s holding something against you too, huh?”

Renji nodded and took the hand offered to him. “He’s got my wife, Rukia, locked up in here as a competitor too. We aren’t allowed to see each other, but Aizen swore that he wouldn’t give her any tough matches so long as I followed his orders. My name’s Renji Abarai, by the way.”

Ichigo didn’t know what else to say other than, “I’m Ichigo Kurosaki.”

Renji gave him a somewhat empty smile. “Nice to meet you. If you ever have any questions about your Zanpakuto, just ask.”

Ichigo glanced down at his sword. It sent pins and needles up his arm… and almost felt alive in his hand. “Yeah, I’ve got about a dozen.”

Renji chuckled. “Ask away.”

“What is a Zanpakuto?”

“A Soul Slayer. Once used by Shinigami to kill demons, now Aizen found a way to trap demons inside until he finds a host for them.”

Ichigo frowned. “A... host?”

Renji nodded. “It’s exactly what it sounds like. If you come in contact with a Zanpakuto, the demon inside will try to bond with your soul. It basically tries to escape the blade. Some people end up getting taken over and they turn into monsters we call ‘Hollows’. Aizen has thousands of those on ice and he lets us fight them in order to make things “more interesting”. Others, like you and me, are strong enough to overcome the demon as use its power, instead of it taking over.”

Ichigo stared at his blade. Somehow, the black metal seemed deep… endless. “So… a demon’s attached to my soul?”

“Yup. Scared the shit out of me when I first heard about it too,” Renji snorted. “But, once you force the demon to reveal its name, you can learn to control it’s powers completely. Then, you can manipulate your sword, do anything with it… like this!” Renji ran his hand along his weapon and it extended. He was then able to move his sword like a whip.

Ichigo’s eyes widened. “Do all swords do something like that?”

Renji pointed the sword above his head and the whip-like weapon became a sword once more. “No, it’s different depending on the powers the demon had before it was sealed. Even then, I know some people who didn’t like the demon’s powers, and changed them slightly to match their own fighting styles.”

Ichigo ran his hand through his hair. “This is all so confusing, and it sounds so ridiculously fake.”

“I assure you, it’s all too real,” Renji sighed. “Your first step should be to find out the name of your Zanpakuto because then you can control the demon’s powers. You’ll have to train on your own to really master the demon’s power, though. And if you don’t train, you’ll end up dying in one of these matches.”

“Noted.” Ichigo tightened his grip on his Zanpakuto. “Anything else I should know?”

Renji slowly frowned. “There’s lots, but… the thing you should know the most, and the thing you’ll probably hate to hear, is that once you use the demon’s power, you can never be human again.”


	3. Chapter 3

A week passed since that dreadful day Ichigo woke up in this hellhole. He sat in his cell in almost complete darkness if not for the window on his door.

He rubbed his sore shoulder and tried not to think about his swollen and cracked lip. He had been dragged into a training match earlier that day and, despite almost dying, he was still unable to summon the power of his Zanpakuto.

It had taken a lot of debating and self-reflection, but Ichigo decided that he would need the power of his Zanpakuto if he wanted to get out of here alive. Getting out alive was more important than remaining human - especially since staying alive meant that Ichigo would be able to see his sisters again.

Ichigo sighed and slowly dragged himself off the floor. He had been meditating for what seemed like hours and he hadn’t heard so much as a squeak from his Zanpakuto. Meditating and patience had never really been Ichigo’s strong suit, but he thought he’d give it a chance anyway.

He held his sword up to the light. “Tell me your name.”

Silence.

Ichigo huffed. “Damn it! I know I heard you speak to me in my first fight with Renji. Why won’t you talk to me now? Tell me your name!”

“And why would I do that?”

Ichigo felt the room grow cold. He slowly turned around, the hairs on the back of his neck standing tall. His eyes widened when he saw glowing eyes staring back at him from the shadows.

“Are you… my sword?”

The demon scoffed. “I’m far more than just some hunk of metal.”

“You’re a demon?” Ichigo asked.

“Wow, you’re catching on quick.”

Ichigo gulped and stumbled backwards a bit. He fumbled in the dark until he found his bed and then sat down. The demon’s presence had him terrified, yes, but Ichigo somehow sensed it didn’t intend to harm him.

“Why won’t you tell me your name?” Ichigo asked.

The demon rolled its eyes. “This again? Why would I tell you my name when you want to use it to control me?”

Ichigo frowned. _Renji made it sound so easy..._

“I just want to get out of here,” Ichigo answered honestly.

The demon looked Ichigo up and down. A smile split its face. “You’re definitely interesting, Ichigo Kurosaki.”

Ichigo flinched. “What!? How the hell do you know _my_ name!?”

The demon chuckled, the sound sending chills up Ichigo's spine. “Well, I have been in your hands for a week. You pick up a thing or two in passing conversation.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for starters, your hair isn’t dyed, your name directly translates to ‘strawberry’ but you like the translation your mother and father give it, which is ‘he who protects’.”

Ichigo scowled. “Is that all?”

The demon slowly moved towards Ichigo. “What do you mean, ‘is that all’? I’d say that’s pretty good considering we’ve only just met.”

Ichigo flinched as the demon reached for him.

The demon chuckled and retreated, if only slightly. “Relax, I can’t kill you without ending my own life, Ichigo. Likewise, you can’t hurt me without hurting yourself. We’re connected now. We’re _partners._ The only exception to this is that, if I told you my name, you’d be able to control me and I wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. A demon’s name is like having absolute power over them. It’s how Aizen got me into that damn sword to start with. However…” The demon swiftly sat beside Ichigo. “Aizen made a big mistake putting me in your hands. You’re the only one who can control me now. And I have this feeling like, even if I told you my name, you wouldn’t be able to use it against me. We’re different, somehow, from the others.”

Ichigo leaned a little further away from the demon, but there was only so much space in such a small cell. “What do you mean we’re different?”

The demon tilted his head. “You mean you can’t feel it?”

“Feel what?”

“Our connection.”

Ichigo slowly shook his head.

The demon chuckled. “You and I, we’re the same.”

“What?”

“I wouldn’a picked ya if I hadn’t sensed a killer in ya, Kingy.”

Ichigo flinched and scooted as far away from the demon as he could. “Listen, I’m not a murderer…”

“Nah, never said ya were,” the demon purred. He crawled towards Ichigo, sitting right beside him. Ichigo could feel the other’s warmth against his leg. “I’m not trying to say that you’ll crack and kill a dozen people, what I’m saying is that you’ve got what it takes to kill ta survive, and the only way we’re gettin’ outta here is if ya do.”

Ichigo shook his head. “I refuse!”

The other ‘tsked’ and moved away. “Then you’re gonna die, and who knows what’ll happen to yer sisters.”

Ichigo’s eyes snapped open. He turned a glare on the demon.

Pale lips grinned. “There it is. Told ya you had it in ya.”

“Fuck you.”

The demon laughed, “You know, I think this might be more fun than I first thought.”

The orange head shook his head and moved to stand. He gasped when pale hands seized his shoulders and pinned him back against the bed. Ichigo gulped as he locked eyes with glowing, golden orbs, shockingly bright against the black background of the cell.

“I know there’s an instinct deep inside of ya, the instinct ta _dominate_ and _slaughter_ yer enemies. It’s waitin’ ta be released, Ichigo, and if ya don’t answer its call soon, then yer gonna die.”

Ichigo trembled. “Let go of me!”

The demon released him and Ichigo immediately sprung across the room.

“How long do you think you can avoid killing?” the demon asked.

Ichigo bit his lip. If he was honest with himself, he had come to the conclusion that he was going to have to fight. He would have to become strong enough to defeat many strong opponents, but he refused to take a life if it could be avoided. Deal an injury strong enough to keep his opponent down? Yes. But kill? Never.

The demon shook his head, long white locks falling across his shoulders. “The moment yer hand touched my blade and my soul touched yours, I felt an overwhelming power hit me. It took everything I had not to be wiped out right there. When I woke up and I found myself in yer soul, I knew my power and your potential were equal. And, if ya really wanna know my name, then you’re going to hafta accept me. I’ve accepted ya as my wielder so accept me as yer weapon, Ichigo.”

Ichigo scowled.

“Until then, guess ya can call me ‘Shiro’. But seriously, I hope ya decide to let me in, King. It’ll be so much better when ya do.”

Ichigo shivered.

Shiro chuckled. He began to fade into the darkness. As he vanished, his voice echoed in Ichigo’s head, **_“Sooner or later, you’ll want my power. It'll be easier on both of us if ya decide to make it 'sooner'.”_ **

"Go to hell," Ichigo spat.

Shiro cackled, the sound fading as he slid deeper into the depths of their now shared soul.


	4. Chapter 4

Ichigo panted. His next opponent, Ikkaku Madarame, was unlike anyone he’d ever faced before. The man practically lived and breathed only to fight, and Ichigo couldn’t begin to fathom such a lifestyle.

Before their fight began, Ichigo thought that maybe this man was just being respectful by telling Ichigo his first and last name. He gave Ichigo the impression that he only fought when he had to… but it was becoming increasingly clear as their battle went on that the man  _ had  _ to fight. And he had only told Ichigo his name so that Ichigo would remember who defeated him.

It was some twisted form of honour, some weird courtesy that Ichigo couldn’t understand. He didn’t care who defeated him. He wasn’t going to go after them for revenge. He just wanted to get out of here!

Any efforts to end the battle quickly was a waste of time. Ichigo had long since given up trying to reason with Ikkaku, to tell him that they didn’t have to fight all out. There was no audience to their match. They were simply shoved into the arena and told to kill an hour.

Ichigo gulped. He could tell from the strength behind Ikkaku’s swings that the man intended to kill far more than just time.

**_“Use my power, Ichigo. We can easily crush this guy.”_ **

_ “Shut up!” _

“You have good reflexes,” Ikkaku commented.

Ichigo was relieved for a break in his barrages. He panted to catch his breath. He could feel sweat clinging to his skin and he desperately wanted to shower.

“But you’re never going to win if all you do is block my attacks.”

“I don’t care about winning,” Ichigo replied. “I just need to stay alive long enough to save my sisters.”

Ikkaku tilted his head back and laughed. The sound echoed around the empty room. “Now that’s a load of bullshit, Ichigo! You think that kind of attitude is going to get you far in here? You’ll never even touch Aizen if that’s your plan.”

Ichigo adjusted his footing. “How do you know that what I want is to go after Aizen?”

Ikkaku shook his head with a grin and a chuckle. “Are you kidding? Everyone wants a piece of Aizen. Beat him, and you get to walk out. That’s what makes fighting him the ultimate prize.”

Ichigo blinked. “What?”

“Not me,” Ikkaku added, ignoring Ichigo. “I actually don’t really care if I ever see that stuck up asshole’s face ever again. Me? There’s only one person I want to fight again. And he’s the only one allowed to kill me, too.”

Ichigo scowled. He got the feeling that he wasn’t going to get any good information out of this guy.

Ikkaku’s eyes turned back to Ichigo, and his smile faded. “What’s with that look?”

Ichigo flinched. “What are you talking about?”

Ikkaku shook his head. “You don’t look happy to be here, kid. In fact, you don’t even look alive at all. You have no reason to fight. You should just die.”

Ichigo gulped, his fingers tightening around his sword. “What do you mean I don’t have a reason to fight?”

“I mean your heart isn’t in this battle, you’re basically just a punching bag.” Ikkaku’s frown deepened. “You looked strong when you first walked in, but now you’re just boring. I should kill you already, but instead, I'm going to give you some advice. If you take it, you might just walk out of here alive.”

Ichigo raised a brown in question.

Ikkaku sighed, resting the sheath of his Zanpakuto across his shoulders while he pointed the blade of his sword to the ground. “Think about why you’re here, Ichigo. Think about _why_ you want to live. You can go ahead and let me kill you if you can’t think of a good reason, but you don’t strike me as the type to have nothing to live for.”

Ichigo felt his muscles relax. He couldn’t help but let his guard down as his thoughts started to wander. Why was he here? Well, that much was obvious, he was kidnapped by Aizen and tossed into this stupid fighting ring. But Ichigo had a feeling that Ikkaku didn’t mean ‘why was he in this building’ but rather about why he was in this fight. Why was Ichigo facing Ikkaku now, instead of laying dead somewhere? Why hadn't Ichigo already given up?

For starters, Ichigo wanted to see his sisters again. He couldn’t do that if he was dead.

“I think you’re starting to get it,” Ikkaku spoke up, snapping Ichigo’s attention back to the other. “Now show me your resolve, kid.”

Ichigo gulped as Ikkaku lunged at him. He was already getting used to the idea of the other swinging with his sheath first, so Ichigo let go of Zangetsu with one hand in order to catch the sheath.

_ Why was he here… Why was he in this battle? _

Ichigo swung Zangetsu up to meet Ikkaku’s blade. He swung with enough force to not only meet the other’s sword but to knock it back.

_ He didn’t want to fight the other. He didn’t want to kill him… but he couldn’t let Ikkaku kill him either. He needed to grow stronger. He needed to escape this hell and go back to his sisters. He needed to fight Aizen, to defeat him, in order to protect those he cared about. _

Ichigo roared as he swung his sword down.

_ He needed to win. _

Ikkaku jumped back, bringing his sword down in a way that mimicked Ichigo’s own swing. The two of them jumped back from each other before the opposing swords could deal too much damage. That didn’t mean that they came out of the clash unscathed, however.

Ichigo wiped the blood from his eye. Ikkaku managed to slice just above his eyebrow. From the looks of things, however, Ichigo managed to cut Ikkaku in the same place.

“Finally,” Ikkaku panted, grinning at Ichigo. “Looks like this might be an interesting fight after all.”

Ichigo gulped at the look of bloodlust twisted into the other’s features. Ikkaku was  _ enjoying  _ this battle. How was that even possible? Either one of them could end up permanently wounded from this battle… or worse, dead. How could someone enjoy fighting with those types of stakes?

**_“Quit holding back.”_ **

_ “Shut up!” _

**_“You’re overthinking things! Nothing else but surviving matters in a fight! You wanna protect your sisters? Then get stronger!”_ **

Ichigo groaned as he wiped more blood off his forehead. It wasn't a deep cut, but it wouldn't stop bleeding. Ikkaku rushed towards him again and Ichigo was forced to block, using both his arms to absorb the shock of the other’s swing. He flinched as blood dripped into his eye but he didn’t get the chance to wipe it before Ikkaku leaned back and then lunged forward with another attack.

“That’s enough.”

Aizen’s voice was quiet. Ichigo could barely hear it over the blood rushing through his ears, leaving his head throbbing and ears ringing.

_ But when had Aizen entered the arena? _

Ikkaku stopped dead. His face went pale and his body completely froze. He looked like a statue, if only for a moment. And at that same moment, Ichigo felt fear ripple through his body. How could someone as strong as Ikkaku look so absolutely terrified?

Ikkaku stepped back from Ichigo. He gave him a short wave. “See ya next time, kid.”

As Ichigo moved to wipe the blood from his eye, he realized something. Ikkaku’s wound had already healed. Ichigo gulped and watched the proud warrior as he sauntered out of the area, through the doors that must have led to another set of cells like the one Ichigo currently stayed in.

It was more than obvious now that Ichigo hadn't stood a chance against Ikkaku. He was much stronger than Ichigo, and Ichigo had this suspicion that Ikkaku had indeed been holding back. But why? Did Aizen tell him to?

Ichigo turned to glare up at Aizen but found that the man was already gone.

A worker came to collect him and bring Ichigo back to his cell.

* * *

“Time for your first check-up, Kurosaki!”

Ichigo blinked, barely registering the men’s presence in his cell, let alone their words, as he was yanked from his bed and, subsequently, his sleep.

Two men grabbed him by the arms and dragged him out of his room. They went down the hallway, away from the arena, down another long hallway and stopped abruptly at an elevator. Once they stepped inside, a third man, who Ichigo determined must be a doctor of some sort judging by his clothing, pushed a button that said negative three.

“Are we underground?” Ichigo asked.

The man snorted. “Quite literally, don’t you think?”

Ichigo rolled his eyes. That was such a terrible joke. An underground organization that was  _ literally _ underground. Haha, hilarious.

**_“I thought it was pretty funny.”_ **

_ “That’s because you’re insane, Shiro.” _

**_“Gasp! You’re finally talking to me again?”_ **

_ “Don’t get used to it.” _

As the elevator reached the correct floor, the men proceeded to drag Ichigo out into a pure-white hallway. He thought about reminding them that he could walk on his own, but the bruises under his arms were far more tolerable than the beating he’d get for showing any form of attitude.

He really hated this place.

Ichigo was pushed through a set of doors. He stumbled into the room. By the time he regained his balance, he heard the double doors lock behind him. Ichigo gulped as he glanced around. It… looked like an examination room?

_ “What kind of a doctor’s office has to lock their patients inside?”  _ Ichigo thought.

**_“I’m not sure you wanna know the answer to that, partner.”_ **

“Ichigo Kurosaki!”

Ichigo gasped and spun around to see a man with pink hair, rectangular glasses, and dressed in all white. Ichigo hadn’t even noticed him come in. In fact, the only doors Ichigo could see were locked, so how  _ did  _ that man get inside? Or was he there from the start? Ichigo felt positive that he would’ve noticed a man with such bright hair sooner, right?

“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you!” The man clapped his hands. “I’m Szayel. You can call me Doctor if you prefer.”

Ichigo scowled. “I’ll stick with Szayel…”

Szayel fixed his glasses with a quirk to his lips and the hint of a glare in his eyes. “Ah, yes, I see. I heard you could be rather… _rude_.”

Ichigo folded his arms. “You try being abducted from your home and see how you like it.”

Szayel snickered. “Alright, that’s fair. Now, have a seat!” He patted the observation bed to his left.

Ichigo really didn’t want to go anywhere  _ near  _ this man, but he supposed he had no choice in the matter, as usual. With a sigh, Ichigo cautiously approached the doctor.

“Oh don’t be so shy,” Szayel hummed. “I’m under orders not to harm you.”

“That’s super reassuring,” Ichigo muttered as he hopped up onto the bed.

Szayel laughed. “What Lord Aizen wants, he gets. And he wants you to be in your best physical shape!”

“Why?”

With a grin that instantly made Ichigo regret asking, Szayel answered, “He thinks you’re interesting, of course. Why else?”

Ichigo gulped. He didn’t bother to answer that question.

The check-up was rather normal, at least, at first. Szayel checked his eyes, ears, and so on. It was clear to Ichigo that Szayel actually had some form of medical training. He was familiar with every tool and followed each procedure correctly. It reminded Ichigo of his dad, a bit, back when Isshin used to do check-ups on Ichigo. Then Ichigo eventually opted to get his own doctor, especially as he was getting older and he didn’t want to talk to his dad about certain… things.

He didn’t want to go there.

But despite how crazy his father was and how eager Ichigo had been to move out, he really missed Isshin now. He wished his father was here.

Actually, no, he hoped that his father was anywhere but here.

“Drink this.”

Ichigo blinked when he suddenly found a glass of water in his face. Well, it  _ looked  _ like water, but it smelled slightly off.

He glanced between the glass and Szayel, the man holding it. “What is it?”

“Water.”

“What’s  _ in  _ the water?” Ichigo clarified, narrowing his eyes.

Szayel laughed again. “Cautious, are we? You’re perfectly correct. Mixed with the water is a serum. The serum itself tastes quite disgusting so I took the liberty of watering it down.”

Ichigo frowned and leaned away from the glass. “Yeah, I’m  _ definitely  _ drinking it now.”

“You will, Ichigo,” Szayel spoke, his expression patient and voice calm. “You’ll do anything I say or else Lord Aizen will allow me to experiment on your sisters. So what will it be? You? Or those two darling little angels.”

Ichigo could feel his anger burning through his body. He snatched the glass from Szayel’s hands and chugged the contents before Szayel had a chance to say more.

Once Ichigo was finished, he heard the doors open. Two people walked in, dressed similarly to Szayel, except they had face masks and gloves on.

“Good boy,” Szayel praised Ichigo, paying the two newbies no mind.

Ichigo held out the empty glass to Szayel, keeping a suspicious eye on the newcomers. Slowly, Ichigo asked, “What exactly is that  _ water  _ going to do to me?”

Szayel shrugged and turned away to place the glass down on a tray. “Who knows? I alter it slightly from person to person. It could do something to you or it could have no effect. It depends on your powers, your battles… all sorts of things. If this does nothing, I’ll alter it until it reacts to you.”

Ichigo frowned. “That’s comforting.”

His eyes widened when Szayel’s assistants seized him, but Ichigo knew better than to be uncooperative. He watched as they measured his arms, legs, waist and other parts of his body. “What are they doing?”

“Well  _ duh _ , measuring you. We’re going to track your progress, Ichigo. Lord Aizen wants you in the best possible fighting condition. You can’t just meditate and get thrown into fights every so often. If you’re going to be a worthy opponent, you need to  _ train. _ ”

Ichigo scratched his throat. It burned slightly - no doubt a result of whatever he drank. “Right, glad Aizen cares so much.”

Szayel jabbed Ichigo in the chest with a clawed finger. “He  _ does  _ care, albeit about very few things, but he happens to care about you. I don’t happen to agree with his analysis. You’re a skinny brat, maybe 135 pounds? Have you ever worked out a day in your life?”

Ichigo scowled. “It’s not like I ever planned on entering combat, so no. I go on walks and eat healthily. That’s all.”

Szayel’s eyes gleamed threateningly. “I see. Well, we should measure you just in case, no? Step over to the scale, Ichigo Kurosaki.”

Ichigo scowled and slid off the observation table and onto the cold ground. He walked over to a scale in the corner of the room. He stepped onto it, resisting the urge to smack Szayel’s hands from his waist as the doctor positioned him properly on the scale.

“Mm… yes, 174 cm and… 120 pounds? My goodness Ichigo, you’re like a walking stick.”

“What?” Ichigo scowled. “I am not 120 pounds! Last time I was weighed, I was 137.”

Szayel grinned. “Ichigo, are you accusing me of altering facts just so that I can administer whatever treatment I deem necessary for you to have?”

“Treatment?” Ichigo questioned. “What are you talking about?”

Szayel grinned. “We have quite the special diet planned for you, Ichigo. Your body needs to be in top shape in order to survive daily life-threatening combat, after all.”

“Daily!?” Ichigo stepped away from Szayel, but he was grabbed by the two other men. “Stop! Let me go! No one said anything about having to fight for my life  _ all _ the time!”

Szayel leaned closer to Ichigo. “Well, you see, Aizen-sama has his eyes on you. You’re his new experiment, Kurosaki Ichigo.”

“Experiment?”

“Plaything, toy... whatever you wanna call it. He’s interested in you and your potential, and he’s also curious as to how someone like you could possibly wield  _ that  _ demon’s Zanpakuto.”

Ichigo frantically shook his head. “I’m not an experiment. I’m a human. He’s not getting anything from me.”

Szayel leaned back and sighed. “He has his ways of controlling you, you know? Starting with torturing your sisters. Their fingers will appear before you one by one-”

“Stop!” Ichigo snapped, glaring daggers at the scientist. “Stop it! I understand… I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever he wants.”

Szayel patted Ichigo’s cheek. “There’s a good boy. Now, we’re starting with your diet. Make sure you eat everything we put on your plate or else you won’t have the calories to survive the next few months.”

Ichigo gulped and slowly nodded. He slumped as the men from earlier hooked their arms under his and dragged him back to his cell.


End file.
